Try To Find A Way
by racefh853629
Summary: What do you do when your past intertwines with your present?


A/N: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles, CBS, or any other known entity.

* * *

Try to Find a Way

_The beach was empty this evening, not to his surprise. December, 50s for a high, windy… many didn't find that ideal beach weather. But it was good walking weather, and he needed a break from the new house. He wasn't running away, though. Just walking. And in his walking, he saw another kid out there, sitting desolate in the sand. He found it odd, not only because it was so cold and the kid wasn't wearing a jacket, but because the kid had to be a lot younger than him. Had the kid run away from home? Surely someone would notice he was missing…_

_The kid jumped to his feet and turned as he walked up, fear evident in the youngster's face. "What do you want?" he called out._

"_Nothing," he replied, shrugging._

_The kid wasn't convinced._

_He stopped walking toward the younger kid, standing about ten feet away. The kid had platinum blonde hair that was long and unkempt, clothes that were covered in probably a week's worth of filth and were two sizes too big, at least. It all added up to one thing. "You a foster kid?"_

_The child furrowed his brow. "What's that?"_

Doesn't he have parents who care?_ he thought. "Kids who live with other people who aren't their parents."_

_He scoffed. "I wish I was."_

"_It's not good," he told him seriously._

_The kid shrugged. "Anything's better than what I have."_

_And somehow, the older child didn't doubt it. "What's your name, kid?"_

"_Marty."_

"_Marty, I'm Callen…"_

* * *

All those years later, there was no way he could've immediately recognized him. The disheveled kid on the beach had grown into a tall pain in the ass. Hetty had to have known, and that was his first clue that he should've recognized it sooner. Especially since he walked the kid home that day. He sure as hell never thought they'd meet again. But then, there was Hetty…

"G? You okay?"

Sam's voice snapped Callen out of his reverie. "Huh?"

Sam smirked slightly. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Callen shook his head, watching Deeks chat with Eric about surfing. "Just remembered something, that's all."

"What is it?"

"Old stuff. From being a kid. That's it."

Sam knit his brow together. "Like what?"

Callen shook his head in dismissal. "Nothing important."

* * *

_Marty was hesitant, resistant. "Are you gonna make me go home?" he asked._

"_Not if you don't want to," Callen replied._

"_Well, I don't."_

"_Okay, then. How old are you, Marty?"_

_Marty looked at him. "You're not some creepy guy out to hurt me, are you?"_

_Callen scoffed slightly. _Too young for thoughts like that…_ "I'm fifteen, kid."_

"_So? Is that supposed to make it okay?"_

_Callen frowned slightly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought maybe you'd wanna talk."_

_Marty let his guard down a bit. "I'm eight."_

Far too young for such hesitation, too… _"Is someone hurting you? Is that why you're scared of me?"_

_Marty turned away from Callen, sitting back in the sand. Callen moved to sit beside him. "My dad hurts my mom a lot. And me sometimes. She tells me all the time that he loves us and that she loves him. I don't get it."_

_Callen sighed softly._

"_Love shouldn't hurt, right?" Marty asked. "It never does on TV."_

"_No, love shouldn't hurt," Callen replied._

_Marty shook his head sadly. "Why, then? Why does he do it?"_

I wish I had a good answer… _"Sometimes people are just mean."_

_Marty snorted. "Yeah."_

"_Do they take good care of you? Your parents?" he asked, but he felt he already knew the answer._

_Marty shrugged slightly. "Dad doesn't want Mom to do some things, like wash my clothes and stuff. He hurts her when she does. But I have a hard time reaching the stuff. I figure if I don't do them, someone'll get Dad in trouble, right? Then they'll take me and my mom away?"_

_Callen sighed heavily, not wanting to answer the question but knowing he had to. "They'll take you away," he replied sadly. "Your mom'll probably still be there, though. And trust me, you don't want them to take you away. It doesn't get better."_

_Marty frowned as the news sank in. "So, what do I do?"_

* * *

Callen sauntered into her office as she was doing paperwork. "You did this on purpose," he said.

"Did what?" Hetty replied, looking up.

"Deeks. You knew I'd figure it out."

She shrugged. "Mr. Callen, I simply picked someone I thought would be suitable to fill the gap on our team."

Callen chuckled. "You did more than that, and you know it."

"I was, perhaps aware of a history, but I figured it would not be an issue."

"Not for me. Maybe for him."

"You would have to talk to him, wouldn't you?"

Callen shrugged as he sat down. "I doubt he remembers. He was only eight at the time."

"You may be surprised."

"Maybe, maybe not." He glanced over to where Deeks was now teasing Kensi about something.

"You already are," Hetty observed.

Callen barely heard her, as his mind drifted off again…

* * *

"_Callen?"_

_Callen looked over at him._

"_What do I do?" Marty asked._

_Callen sighed, thinking of the best answer he could give. "Try to protect yourself," he said. "Fight back, but don't get hurt worse. And don't start the fight."_

_Marty tilted his head. "I don't get it."_

"_Don't make him angry, but don't let him hurt you without at least having an escape plan. Do you have a safe place to go where he won't get you?"_

_Marty shrugged. "He never follows me here."_

"_Okay," Callen said. "So, when he's angry, run."_

"_What about my mom?" Marty asked fearfully._

"_She'll be okay," Callen assured._

"_He hurts her bad sometimes. What if he hurts her worse because I'm not there?"_

"_Marty, sometimes you have to take care of yourself. Trust your instincts, and make some good friends who'll help you out. One day, this will all be over, and it'll be nothing but a bad memory."_

_Marty looked over at Callen. "Was your dad mean?"_

_Callen shrugged. "Never met him. Had a lot of bad foster dads, though."_

"_Is that why you came out here? To get away from him?"_

_Callen shook his head. "I like the beach. Especially when it's quiet like this."_

_Marty nodded. "Me too."_

_Callen smiled slightly. "It'll be okay, Marty, some day. It'll all be over one day."_

* * *

"You gonna ask me out already, or do you wanna keep staring?"

Callen rolled his eyes as memories faded. "You're a pain in the ass, Deeks."

Deeks smirked. "Yeah. Kinda happened after I met this kid on the beach when I was eight…"

That got both Sam and Kensi's attention.

Callen smiled slightly. "How long have you known?"

Deeks tilted his head side to side. "Since you introduced yourself. Figured you'd get there eventually. Easier for me anyway. You got older, but didn't change much."

"You were just a short kid with messy hair and clothes. Finally realized that only the height changed."

Deeks chuckled. "I don't know. I think the attitude might've changed a bit too."

Callen shook his head, smiling.

"How long have you two known each other?" Sam asked.

Deeks shrugged one shoulder. "Wouldn't say we _know_ each other," he replied. "We only met once."

"On the beach out here," Callen added.

"In the summer. I hit him with my Frisbee."

Callen shrugged. "Figured I'd show him how to throw it."

Deeks laughed. "He was worse at it than I was."

Callen scoffed. "You wish."

Deeks shook his head, and for a second, Callen saw that eight-year-old kid again. He couldn't blame Deeks for the cover story, but he also realized that for the time being, it was best just to keep the lie in place. Until Deeks was comfortable enough to let the lie slip. But in the meantime…

"Why don't we go out back and I'll school you again at Frisbee?" Callen challenged.

Deeks laughed again. "Bring it on, old man."

"This I gotta see," Kensi said, as the three of them headed out back, with Sam and Eric in tow as Hetty just watched.

The End.


End file.
